How To Hide Your Spirit
by AirFireWaterEarth
Summary: Vikings have been fighting dragons for centuries, using their Spirit that they develop on their 16th birthday. Most alter into a Common, like ogres or trolls; others form into the more rare species, Gems, like hellhounds and phoenixes. But Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, son of the greatest hellhound, has a tiny dilemma; he Transforms into a dragon.
1. Chapter 1: Oh, how the gods must hate me

**How To Hide Your Spirit**

**Summary: Vikings have been fighting dragons for centuries, using their Spirit that they develop on their 16****th**** birthday. Most alter into a Common, like ogres or trolls; others form into the more rare species, Gems, like hellhounds and phoenixes. But Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, son of the greatest hellhound, has a little dilemma; he transforms into a dragon.**

* * *

><p>This is Berk. It's twelve days North of hopeless, and a few degrees South of freezing to death. It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery. My village. In a word: sturdy. It's been here for seven generations, but every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets. The only problems are the pests. Know, most places have mice, or mosquitoes, but we have... dragons.<p>

Most people would leave, but we... we are special. Not in the 'unstable mentality' sort of way (although, if you asked me, I'd say we're in for that too), but in the 'only-stuff-you-read-about-in-books' sort of way. Think of it this way: you're human. Human heart, human brain, human _spirit_. Us Berk Vikings have got the two former 'human' details, but it's the _spirit_ that makes all the difference.

We have various spirits (called, what do you know, _Spirit_). On our 16th birthday, they appear and we are society-separated into four different categories:

Unwanteds: Some unfortunate ones are the Unwanteds. Their spirits are useless to us, and they take form in domestic were cats and others of that kind.

Commons: Most are Commons, like ogres and trolls. Those guys make up the front line of fighters against the dragons.

Specials: Then we've got the Specials. They're not as common, and you can find them to be in the form of creatures like centaurs and golems.

Gems: The Gems are the extremely rare creatures that take form in species such as hellhounds and phoenixes. You would only find them about one in twenty, and when you live in a village with two hundred people, that leaves only ten people. One of them would include our chief; he's the Viking world's greatest hellhound.

My name's Hiccup. Great name, I know. But it's not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off Unwanted Spirits... I'm not sure if that's how it works. But, who cares about what I think, right? As you would understand, we have been fighting dragons for a very long time using our Spirits. But we're okay now. Like I said, I'm Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III and this is how we came to peace with dragons.

And trust me when I say it was not a coincidence that it all started on my 16th birthday.

**==)::::::**

Despite being a dreamer to a un-Vikingly point, when I pictured my "Transformation Day", I never pictured Dad doing much. Perhaps patting me on the back and words along the line of "make me proud" as if I had any say over what happened. I did, however, expect _something_, not just Gobber, my dad's two limbed, best friend and a handy Org Spirit, rummaging around my room to grab supplies for the big "Transformation".

But, with or without any expectations I had, that was what I got.

Speaking of Gobber in my room, he was muttering about how strangely cleanly it was.

"Uh, hi Gobber. Where's Dad?" I asked.

Gobber threw an arm-better-described-as-a-hook into the air.

"Had chiefly duties to do."

"Uh huh," I replied. _Bet it was more important than oh, I don't know, seeing his son off on the biggest day of his life._

Gobber, having observed my less than amused expression, spoke up, a little less passively this time.

"I'm sure 'e'll be back when u've had your Transformation."

"Yeah. Sure," I rolled my eyes, to make point that the idea was nothing more than a joke to me.

Gobber sighed and rubbed his face, going back to... wait, what was he doing?

"Hey, Gobber? As much as I'd like to watch you go over every nook and cranny of my room in the smack-dab middle of night, what are you doing with my stuff?" I asked.

Gobber didn't even turn from his work, "Need some extra clothes fer ye."

I rolled my eyes. I knew _that_. Every Transformation made broke your clothes (or you fell out of them in which, as the entire village and I would bet, shrank you out of them).

"You have my clothes. In your arms. I _see _them. What are you doing with the _rest_ of my stuff?"

Gobber turned to me and rubbed his (normal and safe) hand on his neck.

"Just trying to stall some time 'till sunrise."

I raised an eyebrow at this, "Why, you like cutting it close?"

Gobber cringed, and then I heard it. The roar of a dragon. Dragons.

I groaned.

"You're kidding me! Oh, the gods hate me. A dragon raid. On my Transformation Day." I closed my eyes and banged the back of my head on the headboard of my bed.

Gobber sighed then chippered up, "Ah, C'mon. How 'bout we just pretend it's a normal deh at the forge?"

I sighed and pushed off my sheets. I didn't really care, but maybe... maybe I could kill a dragon! The thought got me going. Gobber barely got out a "hey!" before I sprinted from the house.

The pathway to the village were broken lines of Vikings, some Transformed, others supporting in ways their other forms could not provide. I kept running through yells of "hey!" until I found out Dad was, unfortunately not part of the Transformed people.

He pulled me up by the back of my shirt and hauled me into the air.

"What is he doing here? Where's Gobber?" He bellowed.

Gobber, being a surprisingly fast man for a person with only one leg, came in on cue and pulled me out of Dad's grip.

"I'll take that."

As Gobber walked off, I complained, "What? So I'm a 'that', now?"

Gobber finally dropped me when we had gotten to the forge.

"What Ah said we were ta go ta the forge, I didn' say for ya to run off like a chicken with their head cut off."

I huffed. Out of the few things I took pride in, it was that I was always able to get away. "Chicken with their head cut off" didn't exactly give me the little dignity I deserved. When Gobber went off to start the fire for some spur-of-the-moment melding, I took a look out the window. I wasn't ever taken seriously, from my bony bodily frame to my knack for... trouble. But I was going to get taken seriously some day. Mainly, by killing a dragon.

A Nadder head is sure to get me at least noticed. Gronckles are tough. Taking down one of those would _definitely_ get me a girlfriend. A Zippleback? Exotic. Two heads, twice the status. Then, there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire. Then there's the infamous and elusive Night Fury, offspring of lightening and death itself. No one has ever killed a Night Fury. That's why I'm going to be the first.

I took a look around for a try to see what the others-who-hated-me were doing. The others—

_Boom._

...are the guys in the heart of the "boom". That contained my personal bully and cousin that my dad is so much prouder of, Snotlout. He's a hellhound, like my father and his father. Gem category. Next were the twins, more insane a yak with rabies. Neither of them (go figure) had gone through their Transformation yet, their birthdays being after mine. But, if I had to take a guess, I'd say imps. Unwanted category. No, actually, probably not, but it would certainly fit. Next would be Fishlegs. He was actually descent. A little too... constantly anxious to be truly likeable, but he wasn't bad. His Spirit was a Sasquatch. Common category. Then was...

_**BAM!**_

The reason behind the bam. _Astrid. _She was in half form at the time. Half form would be when one was halfway between Transformation and Original Form. Astrid was a phoenix, legitimately Gem category. Even if she were Common (it was physically _impossible_ for her to be Unwanted) she would be the very reason it was become a Gem.

The "boom" and "bam" would be the effect of attempts to water out one of the fires in the warehouse in front of the forge. They were the fire brigade. And their job was _so much cooler_. Than mine. Speaking of which.

"Ah, ah, ah. No ya don't. Don't want'cha to get eaten up by the dragons before your Transformation."

I huffed mockingly. "Me? Eaten by _dragons_. No way! I'm waaay to muscular for their taste. They wouldn't know what to do with all," I gestured to all of myself, "this."

Gobber shrugged and said with his dry sense of humor that I'd adapted (but modified!) from him, "They need toothpicks, don't they?"

I sighed and shook my head.

"But, come on. Just once before I venture off to be by myself for my Transformation?"

"No."

"Gobber..."

Gobber turned to me one more time.

"Listen, if you want to get out there, you gotta stop be'n all of," Gobber took both hands and gestured to be up and down.

Irritation seeped into my voice, "But you just gestured to _all_ of me."

"That's it! Stop being all of you."

I groaned and rubbed my face.

Gobber set down his tools.

"Sun's almost up. Gotta get'cha to the back clearing to have your big day!"

"Providing I don't die of a dragon with some actual common sense," I muttered as I was pushed my way out of the forge.

The journey to my designated Transformation spot determined by the Elder the day before was silent, until Gobber set down my burlap sack of clothes.

"This is where I leave ya, kid," Gobber hesitated before adding, "Good luck. It-it hurts at first."

I snorted. As if, in the last 15 (sooner 16) years of my life, it was forgotten to be said that changing your bodily form hurt. And even if no one had told me, good judgment certainly would have.

With little to do and a smidge too much time to spare, I watched as the dragons flew off into the night. Seeing them from afar gave me a sense of peace for some reason, most likely because I wasn't afraid.

Then the first of the sun's rays peaked from the clouded sky, and with it came a burning feeling that had me hissing. As it started to rise, I had to bit back a scream at the feeling of my skin ripping. It was awful, as if I were a volcano with a closed lid and the sense of feel. My bones came in on cue, cracking and widening, jutting in direction my human form certainly never wore. I wasn't ever one to scream from agony (running from a dragon? Sure! Plenty of times), but I was in tears at this point, my voice crying out in the pain that only seemed to worsen as the sun climbed up the sky.

And then, slowly, my skin cooled over, but I wasn't looking, my eyes were screwed shut, as if waiting for a pain made purely for a cruel jump scare. The cooling process was supposed to be comforting my form. When the ache of my bones, the burn of my blood, and the sting of my skin finally stopped, I opened my eyes slowly. I looked down at the ground in which supported black, leathery paws with dull claws. What?

I listen for running water with hearing that had improved significantly. I bounded over, feeling more graceful than I would expect being... well, being me. When the rush of water got louder, slowed and finally made my way to the creek with a small waterfall.

I peered in, looking at my features, in which scared me out of my sockets.

That. That... was, undeniably a dragon, of which species was undetermined. But I had scales and sharp teeth (not to mention a strange craving for salmon). And, you know, wings. Pretty much dead giveaways of a dragon.

Not. Good. Not. Not. Not, no, never good.

Some people were Unwanteds, like goblins or domestic were cats. No, I suffered a fate much, much worse. I was a dragon, mortal enemy of the Vikings.

Oh how the gods must hate me.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And... cut.**

**...**

**...**

**...**

**AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, AH, AAHHHHHH! Sorry, I'm just super frustrated. I have a lot of trouble with commitment. Over-flowing new story ideas, recent (very depressing) events, and failures on chapters in stories that I've tried to commit to really aren't helping. But, here it is:**

**I've tried to avoid OOC-ness (although have only been so much as half successful), there will be Toothless, and I've thought up a really complicated concept for this; could you review so that I know I didn't just waste a week of my life?**

**~ Sam**


	2. Chapter 2: And I'll be here, maybe

**How To Hide Your Spirit**

So... let's see. I awoke on my birthday to find that there was a dragon attack. I was once again refused my opportunity to prove myself of any worth. Oh, and on the day of my Transformation, I turn into Berk's #1 enemy.

So, if anyone asked, my day was going great.

I was sitting in a very un-dragon like position, using a large branch in my mouth to write in the dirt, drawing something that looked nothing like anything at all; reason one being that I wasn't in the mood for some creative thinking, reason two being that, well, I was a dragon. It was near impossible to do anything but hunt. Which would have been great except for the fact that I would be hunting my own species. Wait... did that mean I could fly...

No, focus Hiccup. As I scribbled in the dirt, I had to devise a plan. Something that was convincing enough to pass it by others. I could always say I had turned into something Unwanted. But even those were used once in a while. Maybe I could just fly away... Yeah, right. I'd heard of Vikings who had left in their "other form" and were burned alive, accused of being witches (Impossible. Witches were far too fragile. We... those... Vikings were hefty people).

That lead me to one conclusion: Say that I had no transformation. It would be fairly difficult, considering the fact that once your Spirit has been released, it affects that way you carry yourself, but, who knows, maybe my Dragon Spirit was clumsy too. Plus, I could always just say that my Spirit was Human, and anything I did was just because it had perfected my abilities.

Then there was Gobber to be concerned about. He was probably able to hear my screams. That one would be tricky. Perhaps I could explain that the lack of Transformation scared me? No, I have no recollection in my _lifetime_ of screaming so hard. I was afraid my vocal chords had fallen out. I would have to take a chance and if Gobber was skeptical, I could always use his gullible side to my advantage.

... ugh. Why was life so difficult?

**.:.:.**

I had gone a distance to change back because changing into Half Form was just barely less painful than changing into Spirit Form. My walk back was slow; I really wasn't looking forward to the conversations and eventual rumors that would go about. The forest was so peaceful... and if it was not, I was blissfully ignorant; something I could not say about the rest of my life.

My Half-Form was curious, though. Some of my skin had inky black scales identical to my Spirit Form, and I had smaller wings attached to my back. Astrid's wings weren't in her half form, but that could also because her wings were based off of her arms. I was still tempted to fly, but I would have to save that for another time. My isolation-induced forest navigation helped me from being horribly lost. Well, that and my new found senses. But I still would have been able to find my way around... probably.

As soon as I was back to where I had begun this horrible, awful journey fully clothed and fully human, I began to feel panic swelling inside of me. I was an awful liar. And even if I could pull this off, the results would be disastrous. I would be the ultimate failure to my family name and tribe. All I could do was tell myself that, if I were to tell the truth, things would only be worse.

Ah, the tangled web I weave.

... except I didn't weave it. The stupid gods did. It's been made pretty clear that I'm hated up there.

I cursed very god I knew and used words that would make our mead-headed sailors proud. I finally found Gobber through the thicket, and he seemed ready to hear every detail.

"So, lad, how'd it go? Did the gods land you with a— "

"My soul's Human," I said, a little more bluntly than I'd practiced in my head (through the cursing, of course). But, oh well, I was born Viking... ish.

Gobber stopped in his tracks and turned to face me.

"Are you sure, lad? You could've been a golem, the light's pretty bad in there..."

"Yes, Gobber. I'm certain. Don't you think I'd try and see every possible opportunity?" Other than my voice cracking, I'd say I was pretty convincing. And, who knew, maybe it added to my act.

Gobber and I walked in silence the rest of the way home. Dad was at the door, with a face that actually had an emotion other than a disappointed scowl, for what it was worth, but one look at our faces said that this hadn't gone well.

Dad opened his mouth, but Gobber saved him the trouble.

"The boy's 'uman. Look's like 'e's stuck in the shop." Gobber tried to look nonchalant (and, to his credit, half succeeded) as Dad looked down at me.

I gulped. Maybe it would have been better if I'd stuck with the truth and rolled the dice to see whether or not I'd end up in exile.

"I see. I've had this planned for a while. Thank you Gobber," Dad replied with a nod.

It was good to know Dad had _so much_ confidence in me.

I was led inside where Dad stopped me on the stairs.

"Listen, Hiccup. For all it's worth, I'm sorry that you've ended up this way." Dad began, pausing to let it sink in.

I gave Dad a blank look.

"Thanks. I'll be sure to send that complaint letter to the gods later," I deadpanned.

Dad took a deep breath and sighed.

"I am planning to take a search party to find the nest. During that time, there will be Dragon Training, and I've made sure that there would be some Human training involved. In the times where there are Spirit forms, you will assist Gobber."

Oh, gods.

That was an awful idea.

"Y-you know, Dad. We have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough... Bread-making Vikings? Or small-home-repair Vikings?"

Dad completely ignored my statement, to my dismay. Although, I didn't blame him. Bread making Vikings? It was dumb enough that I'd said it, as the _son of the chief and world's greatest hellhound_. Not to mention I'd probably burn the bread.

"You'll need this," Dad practically threw the axe into my arms. This was going better and worse than I'd originally thought. And those two don't go together very well. At all.

"Dad. I don't want to fight dragons." Already, the idea was making me sick to my stomach **(1)**.

Dad looked at me sternly.

"Of course you do. Now, son, when you carry this axe... you carry all of us with you. Which means you walk like us. You talk like us. You think like us. And that means, you kill dragons."

Ugh. I used the word 'fight' and it made me sick. Imagine what "kill" did to me.

"But I don't have another form. I'm completely useless! Dragon training would do nothing— "

"No. You will, under no circumstances, will be useless to this village. You will fight dragons, powerful Spirit or not. Now, I want you to stop this nonsense and train with Gobber for the month until I get back. Do we have a deal?"

"Dad, please listen, I really can't..."

"Deal?"

I would have thrown up my hand were it not for the rather heavy axe in my arms.

"This is feeling very one sided..."

Dad gave me another one of _those _looks before asking, "_Deal?" _and I knew that I had no other choice.

My shoulders slumped, one shoulder bending farther down from the weight of the head of the axe.

"Deal." I amended.

Dad gave broad smile.

"Now that's what I like to hear."

_Then we have very differing opinions, huh?_

"Stay true to your word. I'll be back, probably," Dad continued, exiting the house to do anything that had to do with getting away from me. The door shut and I let the axe fall to the support of one of my hands and the floor.

"And I'll be here. Maybe."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Not as long, but, I'm telling you, a lot longer than a lot of my other chapters. I'd originally had this chapter have Astrid in it and the idea where Hiccup has that "aha" moment of the fact that he's a Night Fury, but former the idea interrupted the whole "Dragon Training" thing and the latter idea made this chapter 70% more cliché. So, there you go.**

**(1) I know the idea sounds silly that Hiccup, the boy who was raised to hate dragons, would suddenly hate the idea of killing dragons, but he's become part dragon. It would feel like you're in a war and you find out that your mother and her family is on the other side and you have to kill them. But, for all I know you're a mass serial killer so... think what you wanna think. Plus, though let me remind you, the original movie seemed to have the idea move in rather quickly.**

**I'm trying to capture as much of the movie I can into this. I'm just trying to make another version of HTTYD (in which, I by the way, don't own. But, talk about a news flash) that isn't primarily on Toothless. Or, maybe, since I've no self-control, it will.**

**Thank you to: Guest (first reviewer), TIgerLily the Wild, CrazyFeralVigilanteDragonLady, Mikowmer, DeathBright, Rewired105 CrackedCrow, Guest (eighth reviewer), johnnylee619, BeliveInYourDreams, AlienGhostWizard14, An onymous, MistyLeafmarkian, Guest (fifteenth reviewer)**

**Wow! That was a lot of people! I'm so grateful!**

**Thanks and R & R**

**~ Sam**


	3. Chapter 3: At least, I think

**How To Hide Your Spirit**

As soon as the gates closed behind me, all I wanted to do was bolt. It had been less than a day since it had been made painstakingly clear I had gone through no Transformation. I seemed to be the only one to have this opinion, though, because my peers, even Astrid, were babbling getting some scars. Yeah, that sounded _absolutely lovely._

"Pain. Love it!" I chimed in, both voicing my belief (sort of) and making my entrance 40% less painful.

Well, it was a success (ish). The other more-Viking-like teens turned to look at me, most glaring.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Ruffnut asked. I would say 'talk about rude' but you could expect nothing less from the twins.

"Yeah, isn't he Human?" Tuffnut added. See?

Ruffnut elbowed Tuffnut.

"We're Human," she countered, despite the fact that he was only supporting her opinion.

"Yeah, for right now. _He's_ stuck like that forever."

Well, they could play the pronoun game and fight like that by themselves. I stopped listen and looked at Gobber standing on the outside of the chain-roof of the Killing Arena.

"Welcome to Dragon Training! Let's get started! The recruit who does best will win the honor of killing his first Dragon in front of the entire village! We'll begin with our Spirit Transformations. The twins and 'iccup will spend this time observing." Gobber said, silencing the twins.

Fishlegs and Astrid nodded (Astrid more firmly), but Snotlout looked over at Gobber with a smirk.

"So, if this training is about our Spirits, shouldn't Hiccup just go off to pick pansies since he doesn't have one?"

Gobber just looked at him.

"Nope, there'll be Original Form trainen an' some Half-Form things that ye'll do that 'iccup can participate in." Gobber replied.

I cringed. I knew I'd be part of the Human training, but Half-Form? If I was able partake in that, it _had_ to be something physical. Meaning that I was _so_ going to be sore afterwards.

The twins did not look happy.

"Aw, come on. Why do we have to sit out? We wanna fight some dragons!" They said (it wasn't entirely in tandem, but it was still creepy).

Gobber waved his inter-changeable hand in the air.

"Aw, all they'll be doin' is some Transformation practices. Ya won't miss out on anything. Ye'll live."

The twins and I proceeded to go of to the far corners (well, as corner-like as you could get in a circle structure) on (huh, wonder why?) opposite ends.

It didn't seem reasonable to be jealous about this, but I was. It wasn't exactly _fair_ that I was a dragon and now was even more ostracized in both the village and dragon training (in which I didn't even want to do in the first place). I took a seat and watched as Fishlegs, Astrid, and Snotlout did some routine exercises to allow the body a smoother transition.

Gobber wasn't the greatest teacher, causing Fishlegs to keep accidentally halt the Transformation, resulting in some minor pains. The first time he did this, Gobber announced:

"Ya see, Fishlegs is in some pain. Anyone know why?"

Astrid half formed and replied.

"He was suppressing his form."

Gobber nodded in approval.

"Yes. And to suppress your half form would result in a range of minor to major pain. In what occasion, would it hurt the most?"

Fishlegs answered (or more like shouted), "When you are consciously suppressing it."

"Very good. That means, never, _ever_ suppress that form." Gobber looked directly at me when he said this.

I gulped and looked away. This would be harder than I had originally thought.

The Transformation techniques were short (for a reason I would refuse to acknowledge), but the entire time, Gobber was hinting at my actual form (or one that I had yet to describe anyway) and I had thought it would be the worst part of the day.

It was not.

Finally Gobber wrapped it up and announced our first dragon.

"Here we have the Gronkle. Remember the rule: No Transforming."

As Gobber lowered the lever that released the dragon, Fishlegs squealed.

"Wait, aren't you going to teach us something?"

I rolled my eyes. I knew what was coming next.

"I believe in learning on the job."

With that, the Gronkle was released.

"Today, it's all about survival against your opponent. If you get blasted, then you're dead." To Gobber's credit, it was true and to the point, "Quick! What is the first thing you're gonna need?"

"A doctor?" I guessed half-sarcastically. Really, I would definitely need a doctor.

"Plus five speed?"..."A shield!"..."Shield. Go!"..."Ruffnut, Tuffnut, yer out!"..."6 shot limits..."

All their words drifted away form me. I was frozen. The Gronkle buzzed around and...

"Those Two-Leggers awoke me again! If I get my claws on them..." she said.

She was talking. I knew it was a she! It's voice. Oh, gods. This just got 190% harder. And worse. And complicated...

...and she was coming right at me.

"Hiccup! Grab a shield!" Gobber called into the arena.

Well, a little too late for that now, huh, Gobber? I thought bitterly as I was cornered by a bloodthirsty and (and cranky!) dragon. I turned my head away from the quickly heating mouth. Just as I could practically hear my demise (and perhaps I was), Gobber hook grabbed one of the Gronkle's averagely not-so-averagely long teeth (better described as fangs) and redirected her shot.

"Aw! No! My prey! I'm hungry. So hungry...you're just like her... She never let's us eat."

The Gronkle's cries just made my heart break (despite the fact that she would have been my murderer if Gobber hadn't stepped in) so much so that I almost forgot to ponder whom "She" was.

"Aw, ye'll get yer chance again ya over-grown sausage," Gobber said, to which I would have snickered at since assumption was so close, but, you know, he wouldn't understand... at all...

Gobber shoved the Gronkle back in her cage, and turned to the group.

"Remember: a dragon will always, _always_ go for the kill." A look was directed at me, indicating that it was meant for me. Well, I knew one dragon that would not. And that would be me.

... At least, I think so.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I had something planned out for this, but I'm just **_**tired**_**. So, uh, sorry for the lack of plentiful words... I'll work on that... I know that Gronkles eat rocks, but, I dunno, don't we have a lot of iron? Yeah...**

**Oh, hey, yeah, now I remember. I'm working on a new summary since I've gotten various reviews on how it made them vary of reading this. Ugh. Wish me good luck on waking up tomorrow... Read and review. Thanks for the past ones, they're wonderful, really. This would have sounded more grateful if I were not half asleep. Really. But I am eternally grateful!**

**~ Sam**


	4. Chapter 4: A Night Fury

**How To Hide Your Spirit**

If there was a list of odds that were against me, the paper would roll right into Rome, where it would get even longer because they'd follow it back to Berk. But that was long past that point I was trying to get to. The point was, even in the tiniest ways, I had some issues. Say, for an example, my clothing.

There was nothing wrong with my clothing. I've been wearing them ever since I was twelve (and, being sixteen as of two and a half weeks ago, that was pretty sad). But that was exactly the thing; I'd been wearing them since I was twelve. So not only was I sixteen and growing (thank the gods), I was sixteen and had another form.

I'd stated that our clothes rip every time we transform, therefore we need material that adapts to our form as we change. For most Commons and Unwanteds (although the latter hardly ever wear clothes to switch forms) it was pure cotton. Specials and Gems had different, varying material. For instance, Hellhounds wore a mixture of iron and wool. Phoenixes wore silk and bamboo. I had no idea what Dragons wore (I mean, I knew, but, for the Spirit Dragons…) Luckily for me, I knew how to sew. As you could guess, I'm more womanly than manly, which is rather unfortunate, but would help me in this case. I could sew nearing everything. I mean, I made my father's clothes, and that contain _wool _and _iron _(well, I don't exactly have to sew the iron).

So far, I'd tried cotton, linen, wool, modal, and silk (not to mention a mixture of them all, although I tried to be a little less generous on the silk; it was harder to get) Right now, I was trying a mixture of lyocell and synthetic.

The pain had dulled over the various times I had transformed (purely for experiment!), and I awaited to hear a ripping noise, to find that there was none. I blinked and looked down, wondering if I had a) somehow magically transformed into something other than a dragon or b) actually made something that worked. As it turned out, it was the latter. There wasn't a scrap of cloth on the ground (except for some cotton. Dear Odin were these rules and forms particular).

"I did it! I did it!" I cried in a language I'd decided to call "Dragonese" (I know, creative, right?).

"Keep it down, I'm trying to get some sleep! This wretched Two-Leggers never give me a moments peace!" called a sleeping Hotburple..

I froze at the sound. Of my time in the Dragon Killing Arena, I'd probably gotten to know the peeves and pleasures of every dragon in those gates. Instance, he Gronkle would generously ignore you if you don't look and her wings. The Nadder will turn a cold shoulder (which is actually as good as you can get) if you told her that she needed to use her quills more often, so on and so fourth. Never had I really _interacted _with one before. As in, forwardly understanding one and replying.

"Well, then, I guessing a sorry would only make it worse," I replied. Well, there you have it folks, Hiccup Haddock will be sarcastic to everything that can understand him, including cranky dragons.

There was a gasp and the dragon slowly came hurdling out of the bushes.

"A Shadow Hunter! I thought you were stuck in the land just outside the cove! I'm so very sorry! I didn't know…" he said.

I felt taken aback. Whatever I was (a Shadow Hunter? Couldn't have been a Viking term), it seemed to actually exist and well respected. For the first time in my life, that was a way to describe me.

"What's a Shadow Hunter?" I asked cautiously. I was sure dragons weren't smart enough to know that all dragons knew what to call each other, but for good measure… "I've been amongst the Vik— Two-Leggers' lands too long."

The Terrible Terror turned his head to the side inquisitively, "I doubt you were _captured _by Two-Leggers, but, I guess if you raid long enough..." he muttered to himself, "Well, anyways, I think those Two-Leggers call you, what is it? Starts with an F, I know it. Wait no, that's for the second word the other one's Night… Oh, I've got! Night Fury!"

All I could do was blink. _Night Fury. _The words rang in my ears, making me slightly dizzy.

"Well, uh, thank you… uh… what's your name?" I asked.

The Hotburple bobbed his head, "Grump."

Well, I guessed Vikings weren't the only ones that used awful names. I wondered what my mind flashed to what he had said earlier.

"So, you said there was a Nigh— I mean, a Shadow Hunter. Where again?"

Grump pointed a large (but with a strange combination of tiny) paw in a questionable way, making me wonder if he was actually trying to point in any direction.

"Off of Terrible Terror Path," He took in my confused look, "Oh, right, Two-Legger dweller. I think they call it Robin's End."

I wracked my mind for anything close to the words "Robin's End", but kept coming short.

"Wait, no, not Robin's End. Maybe, Raven's End! That sounds about right…"

That got my wheels turning. It wasn't Raven End, but Raven's _Point_.

"Thank you!" I replied the Hotburple looked at me and shook his head and mumbled something about this being the strangest day of his life.

_Me too_, I had thought, _me too._

**.:.:.**

I wasn't really in the mood for Dragon Training, not after I'd heard of the Night Fury down by Raven's Point. But, not only did I made that (very one-sided) deal with my dad, I also needed some time to think. My first instinct when I heard of the Night Fury, was that I would gain ultimate honor in killing such creature, but, only moments, after, it was replaced by doubt and fear for taking a life. So, I took my free time during the Shifting time of the others (Ruffnut and Tuffnut had finally gained their other forms; two Aka-Names **(1)**, Special category. Not very often found, but they're not super helpful).

"Today, we will fight using our other forms!" Declares Gobber.

"Ooo," hissed Ruffnut almost unrecognizably in her admittedly nightmarish form, "I can finally beat up Tuffnut without getting pulled off?"

Tuffnut huffed, but Gobber cleared the air before he could give a comeback.

"No, you'll be trying them one of the dragons," Gobber said and, before anyone knew it, a Gronkle was released.

As the Gronkle went about her business, Gobber gave some advice.

"The Gronkle is slow but strong. Since your abilities are either fast or strong, you've already got a lead. Ruffnut, Tuffnut, use your flexible bodies to weave 'round the Gronkle. If 'e gets too close, use some of your poison to paralyze it. Snotlout, your strength to stun it. But be careful, slammin' too hard could give off force on both sides, with only ye to pay. Astrid, your form is small, sleek, easily missed. Use that to your advantage and fire a little less, only in punctual and very impactful shots."

My eyes darted around the arena, and I wanted to scream. The Gronkle looked to be in so much pain, not to mention its yells. I had been taken out of the arena for this. Gobber looked down at me.

"It looks pretty bad, doesn't it?" I nodded, unable to take my eyes off the disaster.

"Betcha wouldn't want to be part o' that'," he continued. My response was another nod.

"Lit'en, I know ye don' wanna do 'uch a thing, but it's a birthright. 'omthin' ye've got to live with an eventually be proud of." Goober looked down at my almost-fetal-position form. I suddenly knew what all this was about.

"Gobber, I'm Human. 100% Human. Okay?" I didn't look at him, in fear for him realizing that I was truly lying.

Gobber pushed a little more, "Are you sure…"

I looked over at Gobber this time.

"Nope! Not at all. Just said so, because I didn't notice anything otherwise. Should have realized it wouldn't be obvious," I said sarcastically. It was true I was an awful liar, but if there was one thing that over-rode it, it would definitely be Gobber and his insistence. Not to mention the one usually holding the title "Captain Obvious".

"Well, I knew ya'd come around," Gobber said, hinting at a smile.

I knew I needed to. I needed to find a way, I couldn't hide forever… Although, Gobber's statement made me entirely irritated and I looked back at the arena, allowing Gobber to take a) the time to his use and b) the Gronkle back to its cage, as I tried to focus on the Night Fury, not the screams of true pain the Gronkle was relinquishing.

**.:.:.**

I finally figured out what I wanted to do with the Night Fury. I wanted to kill it. It would solve my problems, I could expose my form and say it was an advantage. I could fish out information in Dragon Form and use it to kill the dragons later. It was a plan, with some holes in it, but, all in all, still a decent plan.

But the problem was, I'd have to find it before I could kill it. And it didn't seem to by _anywhere. _I crossed of another piece of land on my roughly drawn map of Raven's Point, and noticed virtually all of the spaces were drawn out. I scribbled out the pages in frustration, snapped the book shut, and put the materials back into my brown, fur vest.

I threw my hand up and said, for the twentieth time that month, "Oh, the gods must hate me."

I kicked at a few rocks before continuing my rant.

"Some Vikings loose their knife, or their mug. Nope! Not me! I loose an _entire dragon_."

I hit a branch to try and take out something more small, weak, and useless than me. It hit me back harder in the eye, making sure I realized that _nothing _was smaller or weaker of more useless (uselesser!) than me. My eyes instinctively trailed down the branch to see what it was attached to. Actually… it seemed that the branch wasn't a branch at all. Merely formed from the breakage of a tree. A breakage from something big. I slowly crept over a ridge just barely dividing me form the other side. I peeked my head over and saw…

I quickly ducked my head back under the illegitament safety of the dirt barrier.

A Night Fury.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ooo, guess who's joining the group. Alright, this has got to be short while my Wi-Fi lasts... so, last chapter was pretty bad, so this one **_**should**_** be better. And longer. Not quite 2000 words, but almost. **

**(1) Aka-Names are Japanese mythical creatures that have poisonious saliva and eat grime off of bathrooms. I was originally looking for twin creatures, and stumbled upon this. For some reason, this just seemed like the twins to me**

**One more thing: Please, please, please don't ask about Toothless's tail. The answer is no, Toothless will not need to depend on Hiccup for help. Please don't bring it up, it's already breaking my heart.**

**Please R & R!**

**~ Sam**


	5. Chapter 5: So why didn't you?

**How To Hide Your Spirit**

I'd had this all planned out. I showed how resourceful my Spirit was by slaying a Night Fury, whose location I had earned while in my Spirit form. It wasn't exactly _fool proof_, but it was something to go off of.

The only issue was, I wouldn't move.

Something in my chest constricted. I didn't know why I was so surprised, I'd been like every time I was in the arena. But I had to do this. I _needed_ to do this. If I didn't, I would hiding for a very long time. Or sent into exile. Either one wasn't an ideal lifetime. I slowly forced myself to reappear over the dirt mound, and looked at it. Suddenly, that feeling in my stomach showed up again. Not only was this a dragon; it looked exactly like me. Or, how I would look in Spirit form anyway.

But I couldn't turn back now. Like someone who _really knew what they were doing_, I fumbled with a dagger the size of my wrist and the length of my hair. In other words, I cut myself with a blade for cutting apples. I really should have been more prepared. But, it was handy, and a Viking went into battle with whatever they had.

I walked over to the dragon, blade covering my face (as much as it could) and everything else trembling. But triumph allowed me to feel a moment's strength. Here I was, using my abilities to Berk's needs.

"Dragon, I will cut your heart out and present it to my father when he arrives home with the dragon nest conquered. I'm a Viking!" I claimed to the air. I knew I was fooling myself, though. Dad would never come back satisfied and the dragon nest vanquished. But it was nice to ponder.

I set my foot atop of the dragon's wing. Apparently, the Night Fury did not like that, and rumbled, making me stumble back. Breathing heavier than I should have been, I took a scan of the dragon. In my embarrassment, I'd never truly taken a good look at myself. Sure, I'd used observations for the clothes to make sure when I Transformed, a pile of clothes wouldn't be beneath me, but I'd never taken a good look at myself. At a _Night Fury_. No one had. So, as I scanned the dragon, I made note of its sleek, black scales used for cover and speed in the night, and its large wing span, larger than most dragon's. It made me long to Transform and fly, but that was far from what I was supposed to do. I was going to kill the dragon.

I aimed for its chest. My blade was small, but its could do its job. And the job was to cut open a Night Fury's flesh. I raised my dagger, looked in its toxic green eyes and hesitated. I wasn't a dragon killer. Nearly every soul on Berk said that. But I was a dragon killer.

"Kill me." The Night Fury spoke, its voice cracked and defeated from dehydration and hunger.

But I wasn't. I lowered the knife and rubbed my face. I wasn't a dragon killer. It could ide by itself, and then I would reveal the location of the body. I turned my back to walk away.

"Please, just kill me." The Night Fury said, this time with more exasperation.

I turned around.

The Night Fury's eyes were closed and the entire body had simply fallen limp. It wouldn't matter. It would still be me. From the moment I arrived, this was my fault.

"I did this," I whispered.

The words were taking it to an extreme; I wasn't the one to launch the bola, but I was here. The only one. And now, it was on my hands.

Before I could comprehend what I was doing, much less why I was doing it, I was cutting the bonds. Quickly, the ropes fell to the ground, one by one. The Night Fury's body tensed. When the last of the ropes fell, the Night Fury's quick reflexes shot up and pushed me against a dragon. I was then against a rock and a hard space (wow, my life summed up in both a moment and a metaphor).

At the rush of fear and overwhelming amount of danger, I could feel my Spirit seeping in. Not. Good. It was clear I wouldn't kill to save my life. So if I transformed, this dragon would either a) kill me or b) tell every dragon that listens, "hey, there's this pathetic half human half dragon thing. Let's use him as a spy!". Either way, I was dragon chow.

I put up my arms in defense (ha, like that would have helped). Suddenly, the Night Fury's once-slit pupils dilated as eh sniffed the hand I had cut with my butter knife (okay, so that was degrading it. But it wasn't exactly what I was thinking at the time. Or... maybe it was...). The dragon looked at me, its eyes still human-like (as a dragon could get) gave me a warning roar.

And...

Left.

Ungracefully, might I add. It hit nearly tree the Night Fury was near. Or the trees hit the Night Fury, as its roars indicated. I wasn't joking; the dragon was literally cursing the trees for being in its way.

Well, I graciously noped my way out of there. I mean, fainting counts as making an elegant exit, right?

**.:.:.**

Dragon training was painful that morning. Especially for someone who spent their night in the forest. We were fighting the Zippleback, as we were deemed advanced enough.

I was stumbling around the arena, gas surrounding me. I tried not to realize that with one ignition, I could be Hiccup al á Electrified. I held my bucket of water close to me, with Fishlegs at my back.

"The Zippleback has two heads; one head breathes the gas, the other one lights it. Your job today is to figure out which is which," Gobber narrated.

Fishlegs was muttering hopelessly pointless statistics (per the usual), the twins were fighting (per the usual), Snotlout was shamelessly flirting with Astrid, Astrid was violently rejecting said flirtations, and the Zippleback (Zipplebacks?) were hissing about "stupid students" and more about this cruel "She", I was peeved. Sincerely and utterly peeved. Even Gobber would agree that took a lot. But I'd just slept in the woods. In. The. Woods.

... and Fishlegs was still talking, practically into my ear.

"Would you just shut up!" I hissed at Fishlegs. He immediately did so, but it wasn't enough. I was still hearing the hiss of an argument with the twins, who were half forming. I still head Snotlout and Astrid. I still heard the Zippleback.

My teeth grit together, but I had to breath out of my nose. One bad move meant Transformation, AKA a wonderful death sentence. I had to calm.

Then there was an abrupt silence and the several slashing of water. The gas was cleared, and the two Zippleback heads were revealed. Fishlegs was the first to take action and launched his bucket...

"Whoops, wrong head," Fishlegs said sheepishly as the now-drenched head glared at him, otherwise unshaken.

"Now, Hiccup!" Gobber called from the outside.

Merely blinked out of my stupor, I threw the bucket up, but dropped it half way.

"Ow," I said, clutching my hand. I'd forgotten about the cut, but it had been scabbed over during the night. The act of my hand rubbing against the crudely made bucket reopened it.

I looked back up to see that my water-throwing attempt had not succeeded. The head looked down at me.

"Poor little human." It hissed as electricity filled in its mouth.

I threw up my hands in front of my face and, suddenly I heard sniffing. I looked up to see that the Zippleback was sniffing at my hands, then reeling its head back. It was _angry_. My eyes widened and I backed away.

"No, 'iccup!" Gobber called.

Suddenly, Astrid came, a bucket of water in her hands. She splashed the water on the Zippleback's head, sizzling out the electricity.

Suddenly, there was _loud_ noise. Not the "bang" sort of noise. No, it was a loud shriek. Did I mention it was loud? I fell to the ground and covered my ears, but it came to no avail. By the time the sound had passed, the Zipplebacks were back in their pens and everyone was staring down at me, most extremely confused, but that exempted a very angry Astrid.

"Is this some sort of joke to you?" She shrieked (not as loudly as... whatever that noise was), "Our parents' war is about to become ours, and you don't even have the sense not to show _blood_ to a _dragon_? It only makes them hungrier. Dragons are out for the killing. You may be Human, but the dragons will only find you an easy target and kill you on _sight_."

Cue the dramatic stomping away and in-sync followers, well, following.

I didn't know why, and barely remember how, but I found myself back where I had first met the Night Fury, wondering,

"So why didn't you?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Too... Tired... please... just... review.**

**~ Sam**


	6. Chapter 6: Well, that was helpful

**How To Hide Your Spirit**

It wasn't hard to figure out where the dragon went; all I had to do was follow the path of broken trees. But suddenly, the pathway stopped, and there was a path, just a wall of stone. I would have scaled it if I had the ability to, but I would barely go two steps up it if I had a _rope_ (trust me, it was once an unfortunate experience.) But there was one thing I _could_ do was slip through the cracks. And that, to my surprise was extremely convenient. As I crept into the crevice, I found a scale, but no dragon. I stared at the scale for a moment, wondering if I should keep it for observation, but it was silly; I was _made_ of it. I set it down, and, after a moment's hesitation, Half-formed to be able to listen harder.

It was silent, and then, like the pitter-patter of rain, grew louder and louder and...

_**Whoosh!**_

I stumbled back, suddenly cursing my improved hearing. Well, at least I found the dragon. I rubbed my ear and once again hissed. My claws had nicked my ear. Wasn't I supposed to be immune to that? Right, right. That would mean being Spirit proof would mean being idiot proof. Ah, nice try Hiccup. Maybe next time. I leaned over to look at the dragon. He was making attempts to escape and I almost felt like screaming. He was trying to scale the rocks (as well as I would. That _had_ to be a new rock bottom for him, although, I wouldn't know) and jump over other enclosed spaces. It was like he didn't know he was a dragon.

"Why don't you just... fly away?" I asked (not-really-to) the dragon.

I pulled out my notebook and a charred stick. I knew I _was_ a dragon, even more, a Night Fury, but it wasn't like I'd have the opportunity to draw my reflection in dragon form. I may have had everlasting memory **(1)**, but even my reflection would leave some flaws in detail. I tried, I still lacked some accuracy (for instance, I was 99.9% sure my body wasn't made up of squiggles). I drew what I saw. It would have been great for research; I knew that. But I was more curious to what _this_ dragon was and why _this_ dragon did what it did... _and_ what it was doing right now.

I analyzed the picture to see it was accurate, when I noticed that this Night Fury didn't have a left tail fin. I found it odd; I was 99% sure I did. But I couldn't be sure. I used my hand to erase the left tail fin. I leaned closer to see if there were any more oddities.

...

...

...

And then I dropped my stick.

Lovely.

The dragon looked down at my writing utensil and then at me. I smiled sheepishly and raked my hand through my hair. And into ears. Dragon ears. My eyes widened as I watched to see if the Night Fury would do anything. But instead, it just looked at me. In curiosity I tilted my head; the dragon mirrored my movement.

Huh.

**.:.:.**

It was pouring on my way back to the Great Hall. I looked to see Gobber and the others-who-hated-me talking, I'm sure an intelligent and logical conversation (note: I did and still do not mean that). I would have just walked through, made sure Gobber knew I was still breathing, and walk back home, but I needed food. I was starving and home was fresh out of food (for 16 years).

I walked over to the table in which I was supposed to sit at (oh, who was I kidding? They probably just didn't know if I'd come and say they tried) and grabbed my food. It seemed that there was an illusion that I actually wanted to sit there, so Snotlout scooted over to be extra-sure I wouldn't. I then grabbed a mug of water (hopefully), in which was almost knocked out of my hands by some delusional who thought I wanted to sit there.

With my head down and sopping wet, I sat at alone at the table left of the one everyone else was sitting at. Ah, the sweetness of my lovely life. I chewed on my chicken that was so vital to my health that I was actually _there,_ when Gobber pulled out the Book of Dragons.

"The Book of Dragons. 'olds everythin' about' dragons ya need to know. Study up!" Gobber set the book down on the table. The other table. Not mine. Just to be clear.

I trained my eyes at my food in order to force myself not to look over at the table in which unhappy conversations were going about.

"Oh! The Book of Dragons. I've read it, like, ten times. There's this dragon at breathes scalding hot water and its enemies and one that pulls its enemies inside out," Fishlegs rambled excitedly, not realizing he was going to run into a brick wall.

"Well," Tuffnut said, "there _was_ a chance I was going to read that."

"But now..." Ruffnut finished.

Snotlout rejected the book with the same fervor.

"Why read when you can just do the stuff the book tells you to about?"

Raise of hands, anyone surprised? Okay, let's count: 3, 2, 1, and 0. Yup, that about sums it up. Conclusion: It was very Snotlout statement.

I walked up to look at the book. It wouldn't a bad idea to read it, especially if Astrid was...

"So, you want to switch off?"

"Already read it." Astrid shoved the book in my direction.

Not there.

Well, that was point -1000 for Hiccup. If there was a game for being the worst at pick-up lines, I'd win...

Wait, no. I'd still loose to Snotlout.

I never won anything. Except for maybe world's biggest screw-up. But that wouldn't be one I'd mind loosing. I'd be pretty relieved actually.

I sat down at the table, book in front of me. I opened it up. I was sure I'd get some bonus points for learning more about dragons. I could always find loop holes and...

Was I fooling someone? I'm going to say no. I knew exactly I was in the Great Hall, in front of the Book of Dragons and not at home doing something equally-and-maybe-less productive.

I opened the book and looked down.

"The Timberjack. Sharp class. Extremely dangerous. Kill on sight. Scauldron. Water class. Extremely dangerous. Kill on sight." I looked at the picture. Whoever it was, they had made it accurate. Rather eerily, might it be added? It made me shiver. The teeth seemed to move and the water seemed to be steaming right out of the book...

Thunder crashed, telling me to "chop- chop". I looked back at the book and flipped through, looking for what I wanted to find.

" Whispering death. Extremely dangerous, kill on sight. Kill on sight. Kill on sight. Kill on sight," It was like an appaloosa of "kill on sights". Made you think that we had nothing better to think about. Oh. Wait.

"Water class, strike class... mystery class." I searched through the book eagerly to find what I was looking for.

Night Fury.

While it was entirely possible for me to simply figure these things out on my own, I knew _someone_ would be curious of where I was going; so far, the back way from my home was unmonitored, but one passer-byer could stumble upon me with extremely strange equipment and have a red flag go off in their head.

I read through the page, prepared to suction onto every detail.

"Speed: Unknown.

Size: Unknown.

The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. Never engage this dragon. You only chance: Hide and pray... it does not find you."

The idea of coming across this made me shiver in fear, but the thought of _being_ such creature gave me an unfamiliar rush of power filled inside of me. I'd never been considered dangerous. Well, in ways other than "don't allow thou to step outside, or thou will wreak havoc with his mad screw-up kills." My mind went back on track and I closed the book, shaking my head.

"Well, that was helpful."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

**(1) Just to be clear, it my non-21****st****-century version of photographic memory. I'm too lazy to figure out otherwise (like the real name for it). I chose for Hiccup to have this because... well, a) it could come in handy later and b) it seemed Hiccup like.**

**I'm pretty tired, but, hey (!) winter break. And the weekend! I can sleep! XD So, a guest brought up the idea for Toothless to have a tail fin to be like the one in Gift of the Night Fury, and it got my mind reeling. Thanks! **

**So...**

**78 REVEIWS TOTAL, 114 FAVORITERS, AND 177 FOLLOWERS? AHHHHH! AMAZING! Thank you guys so much. Trust me when I say I've got a plan ;) To be honest, I've been going through a really hard time, and this has helped me through it. Thank you all so, so much! Please continue the support!**

**~ Sam**


	7. Chapter 7: Well, I was going to find out

**How To Hide Your Spirit**

I don't know _why_. I did this. Considering the fact that I'd just read about the capabilities of a Night Fury and what a Human could to against it, I'd guess that my sanity shoved itself somewhere in Valhalla. Or Hel's realm. Either way, it was not with me.

There I was; equipped with my faithful butter knife, a shield, and, most importantly, a salmon, unwilling to shift into Spirit form. Like I said, my sanity was not willing to grace me with its presence. Ah, well. Maybe if the dragon had somehow realized its capabilities as a dragon and gained the sense to fly away, I'd be perfectly safe. But, of course, Mr. Night Fury With Wings That It Won't Use Like Anything With a Brain, had lived up to the extremely long name I'd just made up.

I was going to have to give him a new one.

I looked over the water and around where it had been before, when, behind me, I heard a nice little thump to the ground. I whirled around to come face to face with something that felt like a soul-mirror. Why? _Why_ did it always have to be from behind me? Why couldn't I predict it for once?

All obligatory questions were wiped away from my head once it began to approach me. I wasn't in the mood for being dragon food. Or maybe a dragon, unwilling spy. As cool as it sounded...

Not right now, Hiccup. Dragon at twelve o'clock approaching perimeters steadily.

I held the fish out in front of me.

"I-I brought f-f-f-food," I managed to push out. Man, who knew saying 'food' would be so hard?

The dragon approached calmly, albeit rather cautious. The icy calm demeanor was shatter, however, when I smelled something on me that it didn't like. I reached for my knife, but Mr. Night Fury With Wings That It Won't Use Like— ah, forget it. I'll make a better name later.

"Drop the knife," I heard him say through the growls. I knew he didn't expect me to understand, hence the incoherent growls.

Once I knew what I had to do, I immediately dropped the knife (without a second thought that could have been applied better). It wasn't enough for Mr. NFWWTIWULAWAB (still need a new name), so, in the end, my butter knife ended up in the bottom of a pond.

Once, I knew I was momentarily in the clear, I held out the fish for the taking. The Night Fury approached and opened its mouth.

"Food!" he exclaimed.

There weren't any teeth when his jaws opened, puzzling me.

"Toothless, huh? I could have sworn you had— "

My out of mind talking (AKA a fancy way of saying I talking to myself) was interrupted by a flash of teeth that this dragon did apparently have. Huh. I would have to look into that some time. Not that I would have much use for it, but, it would be fun. I mean, having retractable teeth was like have a retractable arm. I could bet that would feel weird.

"Human, why are you not eating? Was this poisoned? Where's the other fish? Dirty, dirty human..."

I was being cornered into a rock by a dragon. My entire life summed up in a moment... And it would be the end of my life if I didn't say something.

"I, uh, I don't have any more fish," I said, my chin up in a last ditch attempt as spacing myself from the dragon.

"Oh."

I didn't know what he meant by 'oh', and it wasn't like he expected me to know. After all, I couldn't hear him. Nope, not at all...

_Plop._

Something wet and slimy and wet and slimy and wet and slimy... did I mention wet and slimy (?) landed on my lap. I looked down to see half of a partially digested fish. I looked up at the dragon, in between thought of 'seriously', 'what', and 'gross'.

"Well, you if you're so intent on me having a meal... eat human, eat."

Okay, okay. So all I had to do was eat the slimy, wet thing. It couldn't be that bad. I was sure it was delicious! But looking down at it, I was less sure. I looked back up at the dragon, in which looked rather uncharacteristically adorable, waiting for me to eat it.

I looked down at my (ick, _my_) fish. On the count of three.

One,

Two,

Three!

Oh, gods. This was awful. Like algae coated in grime in your mouth. Must be what the twins taste whilst eating grime. I was didn't want to swallow, afraid my gag reflex would go off and vomiting would come and take me to new complications.

"Well?" The dragon asked and tried to be a good translator for me, making a face expression that clearly stated I was to swallow the fish.

My shoulders slumped and I didn't even give myself the count of three before swallowing. As expected, my gag reflex came on and I covered my mouth with my fist to make sure everything stayed down, even the fish. I looked back up at the dragon, which was looking triumphant.

"And he scores!" The now-toothless dragon gargled.

I smiled, and the dragon started baring his teeth. Wait no, his... gums? Slowly, I realized it wasn't baring _anything_. It was trying to smile, the Human way (well, I'd guess that would be how he was picturing it if it was that hard to do). HE really didn't look lethal right now. Quite the opposite really. I felt like I understood him right then, in the tiniest little bit. A goof inside, even if one had more than the other (and said other was much better at using the lethal part). Slowly, I reached my hadn't for his nose (muzzle? There's never really been a book describing technical terms. Heh, sounded like a horse-training book. I could see it now, How To Train Your Dragon).

This was not a good idea by this dragon's standards. I looked at me for a moment, growled, and shot off to wherever it wanted to go.

I blinked for a moment, unsure of what had just happened. Had I really just come into near contact with a Night Fury? ... and had I really thought, for a moment, that we were the same?

That was so confusing. Wait up, Toothless! Hm, Toothless, not bad. Of course _he_ may be opposed to that.

Well, I was going to find out.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ta, da! This one felt longer than it really was. I'm kinda stalling time to see how I'm going to have Hiccup introduce himself to Toothless (hey, I said I had a plan, not ever minute detail!), so that'll be save for next time.**

**So, my 'cover' for this is kind of lame. It was split second, but I guess I **_**could**_** change it...**

**but would someone, maybe be kind enough to make one for me?**

**I'd be really grateful. These are one of those stories where I wish I had better computer-drawing skills than editing skills, but I know **_**someone**_** out there has the ability! It doesn't have to be complicated, just something like a half-Hiccup, half-dragon thing. Please?**

**Whelp, either way, I am pleased to announce that I'm happy with how this story is going! Please review!**

**~ Sam**


	8. Chapter 8: 'okay' in a sense

**How To Hide Your Spirit**

It was hard to look at the newly dubbed Toothless in the face. First and foremost, I was unsure of how to announce my presence, while also showing I understood him 100%. Second of all… his tailfin was covering his face, I couldn't look at him even if I wanted to. I leaned forward to tap the fin; it wasn't a great idea, but it was how most people communicated, right?

It was when Toothless lifted up his tail fin in a flash and the only thing that I could register in my head was "nope" did I realize I wasn't dealing with people. I was dealing with dragons. Quickly, I got up as if I was going to do that all along and hurried away. I heard a gaff from behind me and realized that it had probably looked rather comical. I sighed and sat down.

What to do, what to do… I couldn't exactly just tap on his shoulder and say "hey! I'm like your enemies, I change form! But don't worry; I change into a dragon so all is fine."

I was sure _that_ would go over well.

I sat down on a rock and thought. Gobber would joke at how it was a dangerous thing for me to do. The best part of it was - was that he never pointed out how painfully true it was. Every Time I sat down to think, I was about a new invention that usually got something else destroyed. My most recent one was before my Transformation, a week before to be exact. It was a catapult. All I had to do was release the lever and a bola would come out. I tried it once on a Nightmare, but missed and hit some other dragon I couldn't see. If I hadn't been so preoccupied by running from a dragon wanting to kill me, I would have gone to see what it was. All I knew was that it landed off of Raven's…

Point.

It landed off of Raven's Point. I looked at the dragon presumably sleeping behind me. Had I really shot a Night Fury? It was insane! I couldn't have hit a Night Fury, let alone on _accident_. But the proof matched up. A Night Fury, tangled in a bola, off of Raven's Point. Well, if this dragon even remotely saw who had done it, I'd say this had gotten at least 50% harder. What being, dragon or not, would trust the person in charge of their captivity for nearly a month? It was a wonder he _wasn't dead_.

… unless it wasn't a person. I could bet that, if there was anything that could convince a dragon to trust one, one should be the same species. Wow, that sounded strange, but I had a point? I looked behind me once again. Well, if I wanted Toothless (I was pretty sure this dragon was going to be pretty peeved with my name for him) to trust me as me, I would be a pretty bad idea to approach in Spirit form and then change into a human. That would give off a feeling of betrayal, not to mention some emotional scarring.

Well then, what else could I do?

My mind flashed back to when I was in Half form. Instead of looking repulsed, scared, or even offended, he was just curious. There wasn't any _judgment _per se. Maybe some "what in the name of Hel is that?" (if dragons believed in Norse mythology), but nothing prejudice. If I could just spark that curiosity, it could quench mine too.

Well, I did always want to learn to fly.

Toothless was now awake, and trying to catch some fish in the pond. Well, here went nothing.

I cleared my throat.

"Hi, I'm Hiccup."

Toothless turned to look at me and gave me a look that clearly stated "that's nice" and went back to his fishing. Well, not only had he given up on talking to me (not that he realized he was doing that in the first place), he didn't care. There wasn't exactly much I could do about it, unless I wanted to provoke him and become his next meal (I _definitely_ couldn't shift fast enough, I never even practiced!). But maybe…

Maybe it was time for him to have an opinion on his name.

"Uh, Toothless!" I called. No reply.

Right. It sounded more like a proclamation about myself than labeling the dragon. Which, I=guess, to a certain extent, was true, but I wasn't going to go there.

"The black dragon fishing; Toothless!" I called again.

That caught his attention. He turned around and snarled at me.

"My name is not Toothless!" he growled.

"Well, what is it then?" I shot back.

The blanched look on Toothless's face made me cringe. Right… well, that kind of obliterated my original plan. Gobber always told me my sarcasm would get me into trouble. Then I'd say "because yours hasn't" and he would say "my point exactly".

Man, never took Gobber for a fortuneteller.

"You can understand me?" Toothless tried.

"Y-yes?" I replied, making it sound more like a question, "I was… I was the one who had the ears." I made motions with my fingers on my head that made it look more like I was trying to imitate Loki's horns and not what my Half form ears looked like.

Toothless sat down and looked at me for a moment.

"You're one of those special Two-Leggers, aren't you?" he asked.

I nodded carefully. I didn't want to lie, but it was also a hard thing to admit. At least, in front of a dragon.

"What do you change into?" he asked again, wanting more answers than I'd even expected. Not that I really expected anything. Hm, I should think out these plans more thoroughly.

"I'm pretty sure that's obvious," I gave. It hadn't occurred to me, but, never had I ever said aloud that I was a dragon.

Toothless snorted.

"I'd say so. But what family?"

I shot him a confused look, which, in turn, made him irritated.

Toothless snapped, "Well, your kind doesn't call the dark skins a different 'species' than the light skins, so why should we?"

I shifted. He did have a point.

"Well, uh, your kind." I said to fulfill the question that was least likely to get me into trouble.

Of course, that was a matter of opinion, as Toothless proved.

"You really can't say you're a dragon, can you? You have to go and talk as if it's an embarrassment."

I looked away, feeling something deep in my stomach. I couldn't say 'because it was' unless I wanted a dragon duel, in which I would lose. Because I loose everything. Toothless walked away, but that didn't mean I was going to. I sat down on a rock and began drawing random patterns with a stick. I wasn't sure when I realized I was drawing a dragon, bit happened time round when Toothless decided he was curious. I knew I was there to eventually talk with Toothless, but I wasn't really comfortable with him watching me draw . I never really did, if I was honest with myself. Ever wanted to do something, but didn't know how to do so? It was like right now. I wanted to talk to Toothless (about what I was still unsure about), but I was frozen in my fear. Toothless didn't know this, but he was the first dragon, scratch that, first _being_ to know what I was. If you didn't count the gods, but they hated me with fervor, so they were exempt.

Although, Toothless wasn't exactly fine and dandy with me either.

Still, he watched me as I sketched the dragon. It looked like Toothless, I wasn't even going to say that it looked like me; I was done thinking that. I looked like a dragon, a _Night Fury_ and that was that. My head would hurt if I pondered on it more.

Toothless hymned and left me once it was clear what I was drawing.

Well, there went my chances. Not that it looked like I was going grasp the chance. I sighed and continued adding details to the drawing. From behind me, I heard a snap and froze. It sounded like a tree. Now, I knew dragons were dangerous, but clubbing me with a tree… that would be an _unusual_ way to die. Toothless approached, dragging in his mouth a thin tree trunk. But instead of raising it and bonking me in the head, he began dragging it in the ground. Toothless dragged in senseless patterns around the rock and me. Once he was done, I realized what had happened.

He had drawn something.

Granted, it wasn't exactly anything recognizable, but he _drew_. I was 100% positive that most dragons couldn't even define the word. I tried to walk over to the outside of the drawing; maybe I could see if it really was something. I stepped down, causing Toothless to growl.

"Don't."

Well, his idea was pretty clear. I withdrew my leg.

"Why?" I asked, a smiling creeping onto my face.

"Just don't."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. I stepping on the line again caused the same reaction as before.

"Well, I need to get out of this _sometime_." I replied.

"Then step over it," Toothless said, not going into specifics.

I pretended not to understand, "Why?"

"Don't."

"You've said that," I said matter of factly, "Are you sure you don't want me to ruinyour _masterpiece_?"

"_Don't_."

"Whatever you want, Toothless."

I shook my head and stepped over it, even if Toothless wasn't going to admit to wanting to keep _his masterpiece_ preserved. It felt a bit like dancing; not that I knew exactly what that felt like. Around and around I went, careful to avoid any stray lines. I was edging towards the end. I looked back at what I had crossed, when I felt warm air blow across my back. I froze. I turned around to face Toothless, unable to do much else.

He didn't say anything, and I got that most dragons didn't talk as often as Grump did. I turned away and slowly stretched my arm out, breathing in and out deep breaths. I refused to stretch my arm out all the way, but it didn't matter; Toothless stretched his nose (muzzle? No, Hiccup! Moment) to meet my hand. I let out an _exceptionally_ large breath. This meant, for whatever reason I really wanted to know what was up with this dragon, I could ask. This meant, somewhere in my mind, everything would be OK.

I looked over at Toothless. He looked at me, retracted his nose (muz- ah!) from my hand, and shook his head.

"My name is _not _Toothless."

With that, he dashed off to do whatever he needed to do before he figured out he was a dragon.

Well, 'okay' in a _sense_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm actually quite sad, I wanted this to be longer. But didn't want over-kill, so I kept it how it was. *sigh* Oh well. So… guess what?**

**100 REVEIWS! THAT'S WHAT!**

**100 reviews, 133 favs, and 205 follows.**

… **OMG! That was **_**chapter 7. **_**That over 12 reviews a chapter (sorry, not using calculator right now).**

**Thank you so much!**

**Alright, onto other matters now. **

**IMPORTANT: For the cover picture, silverwolvesarecool, I would be **_**thrilled**_** if you could do it and I could use it for my cover. Of course, with your permission. (I put this in the A/N rather than a PM for clarification purposes. I'll PM you if you'd like other information and/ or want to give me other information.)**

**STORY NOTES: err, sorry about Toothless. He's a bit… out of character. In my defense… uh… Toothless doesn't really talk in the movie? Heh, heh, yah… Anyways, I'd like to say that in later chapters Hiccup **_**will**_** Transform more. I swear. Just not until he and Toothless are more acquainted. **

**Also, Hiccup is super oblivious to the reason why Toothless can't fly, and I'm sorry about that, but a) Toothless (well, the Toothless I'm writing) doesn't seem like the type to point out handicaps and b) I kind of want to use the scene with Gobber and the gang (or, as I [or Hiccup] so eloquently say it, "the others who hate Hiccup") to my advantage for some shifting exposition, while not using it as overkill during the arena.**

**ONE MORE THING: I am a total fan of Hiccstrid (actually a conversion from Mericup). So, therefore, this will have Hiccstrid. This actually kinda sorta seems like Toothcup, with the tension and the actual fact that Toothless is a dragon, so I'm trying to clarify.**

**~ Sam**


	9. Chapter 9: Hooray

**A/N: This will be quick and short, I promise. So, I'll repeat this at the bottom too, but thank you so much silverwolvesarecool. I feel so special to have my own cover now!**

**Also, I'm mixing in the 'I need to add more spirit-related into the story' and 'try and mix up the plot' reviews (well, review for the latter) without throwing away the original-movie plot. So, note: THIS CHAPTER IS NOT ALINGED WITH ANY SCENE IN THE MOVIE.**

**Thanks!**

**How To Hide Your Spirit**

I was 100% delighted with the fact that dragon training today wasn't going to have any dragons in it. I really was. But I was also incredibly suspicious. I had a feeling Gobber was up to something that with include his idea of me being... well, not entirely human. Or something else that would make me uncomfortable, whether or not he knew it.

There was also the fact that I was not a bystander today, rather sitting with the rest of the group.

I felt really out of place. No dragons meant no human-form fighting, meaning the traditional Transformation lessons were coming right up. And I was in the smack-dab middle of it. I chewed on my lip as I noticed nearly everyone else was having the same ideas, save Fishlegs who was looking downright relieved. I looked over at Gobber who was just waiting for the twins to put a cap on it. Eventually they tuned it down (whatever they were fighting about managed to do me a favor and fly right over my head. Seemed as though the gods were feeling fairly merciful today), and Gobber hobbled in front of us.

"Today, class, we are going to do a leetle more than the basic fight'n now that all of us have come o' age."

Cue Snotlout looking at me and smirking.

Gobber caught it and gave a small smile that lit fire to a sign above his head saying 'Hiccup's going to have _so_ much fun!' (It was a sarcastic sign because the gods knew Gobber would not have it otherwise). I braced for impact.

"Now ya all may be wonderin' 'now what's 'iccup doin' 'ere then?" Thank you Gobber, that _really_ helped my social life. Not that it existed anyways. "Well, it's because his '_uman_ form enhances 'is abilities." Astrid, being the only one catching Gobber disbelief, looked over my way and narrowed her eyes.

'Do ye all remember last class when 'iccup fell to the ground an' 'overed 'is ears? 'e experienced an alarm. Alarms are when yer Spirit tells ya yer pressing too hard against it," Gobber's eyes turned sharp as he looked at me, "now _why_ 'e'd be surpressin' 'is form when 'e's clearly in danger is _beyond_ me."

I cringed at the realization of it. And the stares of course. Astrid was likely still the only one who had caught Gobber's drift, but it didn't mean no one understood that there was _something_ wrong with me (wait, something wrong with me? Really? How was that even possible...) I looked to meet Astrid's stare and shivered as she looked at me. She had that look in her eye that meant she knew something about this, and it would likely terrify me.

Gobber cleared his voice and got back our attentions.

"Our forms 'ive off a sound 'at belongs t' our spirit. Say, 'iccup, now wha' did ye hear?" Gobber asked.

I swallowed. I had to think fast. What would a human hear? Something to signify danger...

"A whistle!" I blurted out.

Nice, Hiccup. Real smooth. Because humans whistle in times of danger.

Gobber raised and eyebrow.

"Well that's strange. They _usually_ 'ear screams, but it _has_ been a while..." Gobber went on explaining the other 'danger' signals, but I was otherwise preoccupied shrinking from view (although I did find it funny that the twins' alarm was a squeal). Why was I so horrible at lying? If the gods were going to curse me with a second form of the Viking's worst enemy, couldn't they have at least handed me some acting skills so that I could live with it?

"'iccup? 'iccup!" Gobber's obnoxious voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Yup! Yes, I am present!" I said, snapping out of my self-pity. I earned myself some snickers from Snotlout and the twins.

Gobber nodded.

"I see that. Ma question wa' if ye could tell me if ye 'ave ever felt the internal _pain_ o' Spirit Supression?"

I rolled my eyes and the first comment and shook my head. It was the one honest thing. I guess my Transforming in the woods probably helped with that.

"Well, we _'ave_ already been over that, so we can move on. This is wha' ye 'ave been waiting for; spirit 'and ta 'and combat. The best we can learn is from eachother!" There were too many gleeful replies for my comfort, " 'iccup, ye will no' be participating but ye will be stayin' in the arena."

I gulped, as I knew my vulnerability would be used to the maximum by Snotlout and the twins (mainly Snolout). I fast walked it over to the side of the arena and watched as the other-who-hated-me took their forms.

Snotlout's thick and muscular form became even more so, although his height decreased and his posture subsided (I'd say 'if that were even possible', but this was a change of bodily form, not to mention holier-than-thou Snotlout). He grew fur and his fingers became thick paws with claws (yay, I'm a poet; I rhymed). Fishlegs increased in weight (but not much) and grew much taller, while sprouting very long fur and beefier hands. The twins changing always made me cringe. The had thin red skin/ fur and their tongues had trouble staying in their mouth. My stomach always tumbled at their demonic look. Then there was Astrid, who always looked majestic while changing (forms (!) thank you very much; I am _not_ a pervert). Her arms expanded and grew red and orange feathers, with some yellow sprinkled in. Although her arms expanded, her size decreased. Her normally sky-blue eyes turned lavender and her nose and mouth blended into a beak.

Gobber never said that it wasn't allowed to go into half form, but I guessed that it just seemed more fun to them if they could change completely. Snotlout went to Astrid, likely trying to show dominance (he normally wasn't _so completely stupid_, but his canine senses were in the mix). She finished him off easily, using her surprising strength and speed, not to mention some fire here and there, but you could tell she wasn't trying to damage him for all eternity, in which he probably could have done.

The twins went for each other (I know. Who knew?...), and, like usual, there was no real victor of that fight. I looked at Fishlegs who was so completely glad that we was left out of the fights. He really wanted to be in my place right then; I could tell. But No one wanted to be in my place right then; not _really_.

**.:.:.**

The fighting as over and I was glad I only come out with a bruise on my side that was _pure _accident. The twins forgot where they were and immediately shook out of their stupor (of course, they 'forgot' to apologize to me). I made my way to the forge (I wasn't ready to go back to the woods; maybe tomorrow), when I was pulled aside my Astrid.

"I know you're hiding something," Astrid looked me in the eye, "Gobber know it, I know it, and I _know_ the Elder knows it. You're just lucky we're all ready to let you figure it out for yourself." Something in Astrid's gaze was almost forgiving, which was admittedly even scarier for me. Her eyes (thankfully?) hardened again, "But you better fess up to it soon; I'm not exactly patient."

Astrid let go of me, and my stomach dropped when I saw her eyes were going lavender. She practically ran off, and something in me realized she did so as to mot hurt me. I gave her silent sympathy; a phoenix Spirit was hard to contain, and even the violent didn't want to burn another.

I walked over, chastisising myself. Of course! The village Elder knew _everything_. Why wouldn't she know what I was, or at least that I was hiding something! Astrid was a phoenix, (you know, the bird that burns and then comes back to life) so she was signifigantly harder to kill, mostly because a Viking's greatest threat is to be bruned alive, so she was expected to be the next Elder. I felt bad for her, but, I guessed, someone had to live until they forgot who they were. But if Gobber hinted, and the Elder knew, Astrid would _definitely _be cued in for the show.

La, de, da, da, the life of Hiccup Haddock! Horray!

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Just so you know, this will be the exact same day as the whole 'oh, Toothless cannot fly because you ripped off his tailfin'. Like I said, I changed this around for this little exposition.**

**Woah! Okay, so where did I go? Vacation, Youtube (no seriously, I do AMVs now and participate in MEPs. I would love subscribers; I'm AirFireWaterEarth 0413), and somewhere in the deep corners of mind. If you might possibly remember, the very first chapter contained me saying something like 'and depressing circumstances', well I've had them come and bite me... hard. I'm not comfortable saying what exactly due to varying circumstances, but they have. And when my 2000 word chapter was rather discarded, I was discouraged. But now I'm back!**

**So thank you again, silverwolvesarecool (and thank you for compliment on my avatar in deviantArt XD. I have for my Youtube as well) for my very own fanfic cover!**

**Thank you to all who support me and **


	10. Chapter 10: alteration

**How To Hide Your Spirit**

Dinner was always bland to a Viking. In fact, the only other description for our food was "overcooked". Well, and the occasional "undercooked". For some reason, however, it was seemed to be agreed upon that being outside made the food taste better.

Agreed upon by everyone, except me.

A good amount of time, I cooked for myself. I wasn't a bad cook either, but I wasn't sure that a "good cook" would fit very well on my Vikingly resume. So being outside gave me the benefit of nothing, but it seemed that it was mandatory for Dragon Training because it taught us how to… go outside (that was a joke. Heh, heh, heh no it wasn't). Plus there _was_ the fact that I was out of food; I gave the last of it to Toothless (yes, that does mean I had one fish left. It wasn't like my father was home often enough to restore the supplies). I wouldn't have come if I had the opportune.

Gobber was talking about the time his spirit failed him. It happened often enough to Vikings for an unknown reason. It was pretty much that, out of nowhere, your spirit doesn't work for you anymore. Your spirit went "Uncontrollable" in two ways: by going impulsively into your earthly body or outside in a snap. Gobber was talking about the two times his spirit gave up on him, consequentially losing two limbs. I was sure that had been _fun_, but that story was so old, I could name the next word he was going to say.

"Isn't it weird to thank that if you still had control of your hand…" and I tried again to listen since the topic was different… well, by a different person, but I took comfort in knowing that not many cared to follow Fishlegs into what he was saying, either.

Snotlout was amongst them. He held up a piece of chicken, growling.

"I am so mad!" Snotlout pointed his skewer at Astrid, "I'll get you! I'll chop of the legs of every dragon… with my face."

I was between nausea and amusement when I heard this. Both were reactions towards Snotlout and his dragon... vow. And him and Astrid. I reacted to both of those as well.

"Nah, it's not the legs ya want, it's the wings an' tails," Gobber waved a chicken bone at Snotlout, "a downed dragon is a dead dragon."

I couldn't stop myself from getting a head rush. Tail, me, Toothless, dead. Not in that order. I don't really remember what order, mostly because HEAD RUSH. Slowly, I was able to puzzle piece together my thoughts. My tail _did_ have two parts, and Toothless _knew_ he was a dragon (well… I would hope). And without his tail, Toothless would die. And _that_ would most definitely be my fault.

So I got up and ran off. It wasn't like anyone was looking… or maybe someone was.

I was trotting down the wooden staircase that lead up to the elevated structure the group was eating in without a hiccup (please. No pun intended). When I reached the bottom, however, I heard a voice behind me.

"Hiccup! What are you doing?" Astrid hissed.

I stuttered, "Oh! Hi, Astrid, hi… Astrid. Hi. I was, uh… done with my food so I left."

What was I saying about the gods and my acting skills?

Astrid looked at me skeptically, "You dropped your food in the fire," she then looked me up and down, "Well... actually, that makes sense.'

I nodded, slowly inching away. I guessed it did make sense. It was the half-truth anyways; I didn't have much of an appetite. Suddenly, Astrid's face scrunched up.

"Hey, do you like… starve yourself?"

I blinked at her.

"Do I… what?" I asked.

"Like, not eat. On purpose."

I squinted my eyes at her and shook my head.

Astrid sighed.

"Like… are you afraid of food?"

I couldn't help but snort. I was afraid of a lot of things, but food wasn't amongst them.

Astrid growled.

"Fine. Whatever. What _are_ you doing?"

"I'm finished. Eating." I tried again, still stuttering.

"Right. And I'm in love with Snotlout." Astrid replied, crossing her arms.

"Well, then you should tell him that because… I am. Done. Eating my… food." Whoever made up the saying "third time's the charm" was an idiot. I didn't think I'd be able to say it right by the tenth time I said it.

"_Hiccup_. I'm not stupid."

But at the rate this was going, I was going to find out.

"Good to know. Now, I'm leaving," I said. And then I ran off.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid for lying, stupid for thinking I _could_ lie, stupid for running off, and stupid for being just plain stupid.

I gasped for air with the door to the forge behind my back. I didn't want to look behind me either. I shook my head and pushed myself into full control of my feet. I was going to fall in a moment, but I was just going to have to stretch that moment into an hour. Or maybe two. Or three. Or… more than an hour.

So I cranked and molted and cut and sewed, reminding myself of the time I had to make my clothes. But this was a survival thing. Not a survival… hope.

Survival hope. Even my own brain could tell me there was much less than a 50/50 chance of making this. No, not the tail. My life. Alive. And out of banishment. I would say out of otrisizment **(A/N: ah! How do you spell that?!)**, but that was already an unofficial rule. As I tinkered, my mind wandered back to the conversation with Astrid. I didn't understand half of it, but I understood that this would be a problem But Astrid wasn't going to stop me from helping Toothless. She was just a… diversion.

But I didn't know, was that there was someone in the shadows, watching the work I made, the style I worked with.

It was a diversion that would become an alteration.

**A/N: I know, you were hoping for something a bit more, I'm sorry. I so glad that you guys still follow me and whatnot. :) So, as you see, I made a rather large deviation from the movie. This is because of this:**

**Around chapter three or four someone (sorry, please don't be offended; I'm too tired to try and figure out who it was) pointed out that without Toothless, Astrid wouldn't be able to discover the beauty of dragons from flight. I said that there **_**was**_** Toothless, so everything was cool. If you're really on it at the moment, you can already see my mistake. Astrid turns into a phoenix. What are phoenixes? Birds. And what do birds do? Fly.**

**So yeah. This is my patch… I guess.**

**Well, please review!**

**~ Sam**


End file.
